I’m getting into an awful habit of letting life rush by through the week and only blogging at the weekend. This is not good and I’ve given myself the mandatory reprimand for not writing enough.
Life is so busy isn’t it? Sometimes in a really great way and sometimes in a way that just makes you plain dizzy. There are days I wish I didn’t work full time so I could just…Well, do what part time working mum’s do. Even getting the chance to do laundry during the day would feel pretty gratifying at the moment. Every time I walk past that basket full of dirty clothes I can feel it judging me for ignoring it until Saturday morning.
And life, in the short term – is about to get a lot busier. We have 17 days to pack up our world into boxes before we get the keys to our new home. We’re moving! Now, it’s not a life-altering change in the way of geography; we’re only moving 4 miles down the road. But it will indeed bring lots of little changes to our ever day lives. Our new home, which I’ll write a whole lot more about when we do move in, has a beautiful garden that stretches down to a river at the bottom. Having had over a year of next to no outdoor space, the thought of sitting in my new garden with a cup of coffee makes me want to squeal with happiness. And if that didn’t do it for me, then the splendid patch of cobbled stones outside the new front door definitely would. Because this mean one thing – guaranteed parking. Hallelujah! City dwellers would scoff at my grumbling over my lack of parking in the tiny market town I have called home this past year. But quite honestly, it has driven me bonkers. In the warmer months I hold my breath as I turn the corner onto the road leading back out of the town, anticipating a full stretch of parked cars outside the row of cottage where we live. And most of the time I’m right and we drive around and round the little one way system, my two little bears now used to and amused by my rambling on about ‘tourists in my parking spot’. But now. Now I do have my very own parking spot that will be a tourist free zone.
I will miss my little market Town though. The village that we’re moving to, that has one quirky country pub and ‘kind-of’ shop based in a retirement hall, is going to make this place feel like we have moved from a thriving metropolis. But sentiments aside, this ‘thriving metropolis’ is less than 10 minutes drive away so I think we’ll just about manage to survive in this wilderness of village life.
So right now we’re in that ‘it’s too early to pack the essentials’ stage that leads you into a false sense of security, thinking you have more time than you actually do. There’s not a lot in the house that we don’t use but we can’t leave it all until a few days before the move. I guarantee when we start packing away toys that the little bears don’t regularly play with, they’ll suddenly become firm favourites and battles will follow. But the reality is that lots of cardboard boxes need to be packed. And quickly.